robert frost i am not...

"Red"

Red looks like my father's face when he is angry, disappointed, or ashamed.
Red smells like his worn and tattered work jacket; like mothballs and morning air.
Red feels like the soft interior of his '77 Chevy, restored to perfection in the '80's, now sitting in a junkyard somewhere down south.
Red sounds like the toy fire truck he bought me in my childhood (the one I left at the beach and cried about for days).
Red tastes like a stick of cinnamon gum from his shirt pocket.
Red is a feeling of being home in my father's safe embrace.


If anybody out there wants to try writing their own color poem, here is the format:

TITLE = color of your choice

insert color  looks like fill in the blank

insert color  smells like fill in the blank

insert color  feels like fill in the blank

insert color  sounds like fill in the blank

insert color  tastes like fill in the blank

insert color  is a feeling of fill in the blank

"words are things"...by maya angelou

 

Maya Angelou:
“Words are things, I am convinced
You must be careful, careful about the words you use
Or the words you allow to be used in your house
In the Old Testament we are told in Genesis (actually it’s John 1:1)
That in the beginning was the Word
And the Word was God and the Word was with God
That’s in Genesis (John 1:1)
Words are things
You must be careful
Careful about calling people out of their names
Using racial pejoratives and sexual pejoratives
And all that ignorance
Don’t do that
Someday we’ll be able to measure the power of words
I think they are things
I think they get on the walls, they get in your wallpaper, they get in your rugs
In your upholstery, in your clothes and finally…
Into you”